


Four-letter Word

by alienboy



Category: Watchmen - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Creampie, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dialogue Heavy, Eating, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Identity Reveal, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kinda?, Kink Meme, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Showers, Tags Are Fun, Tags Are Hard, Tags May Change, Wake-Up Sex, eventually, for one chapter, oatmeal, summary sucks but ill think of something better, they dont know what it is and neither do i, unedited because i dont have time atm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-10 17:11:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12303741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienboy/pseuds/alienboy
Summary: After angsting over it for a while, Dan finally tells Rorschach he loves him, then has to convince him that he means it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Currently still in the process of being filled over at the 7th watchmen kinkmeme. The thread is here: <https://watchmen-km.dreamwidth.org/287.html?thread=437279#cmt437279>. New chapters might sit there for a while before they appear here.

Dan wakes first. It's not often Rorschach wakes before him, and it suits him just fine. He doesn't know when he'll get another chance to simply admire the man, staring and taking in every detail. He can lie here holding him in his arms, feeling his heartbeat and how tiny he is without his many protective layers, lightly kissing the freckled skin on the back of his neck. It's a sunny afternoon, and the light catches the hair sticking out the back of his mask, making it look even more like fire than usual.  
  
Hair color is all Dan has to go on--hair color and the scars too old to be from crime-fighting, and the fact he once let it slip that his line of work had something to do with fabrics. He doesn't know what color Rorschach's eyes are. He doesn't know what the guy's real name is, or his age. He doesn't seem much older or younger than Dan, but even that's all guesswork, and he has no idea when his birthday is either. What does he do when he's not with Dan? How different is he when he's not wearing the mask? Does he have family, friends, a life out of costume? Hell, Dan probably knows more about Ozymandias or the Comedian, who have hardly been forthright with personal information, than he does about Rorschach.  
  
His lack of knowledge makes his feelings all the more ridiculous. He has developed strong feelings for Rorschach. They started as a tiny flame many years ago, sparked by a handshake, and have burst into an out of control wildfire. And how does Rorschach feel? Dan doesn't know. They've been sleeping together for almost six months and it hasn't changed things between them, not significantly. He stays over sometimes, lets Dan cook him breakfast instead of just coffee, and he's more good-natured when listening to Dan's ornithology and engineering rants, but it's not like they're a real couple, and Rorschach hasn't said a word about how he feels, as if he ever would.  
  
Yet still, Dan can't help how _he_ feels. He's tried to say it before, those three little words that could make or break everything, but he _can't._ His throat closes up like he's having an allergic reaction, his mouth dry, his palms anything but. He feels so fucking nervous, the kind of nervous that befits someone who's about to propose marriage in public, when all he wants to do is say "I love you" in private. He's done this before--six times, and that's all of his past lovers, ever the hopeless romantic--but declaring one's affections for that coquettish high school sweetheart or cute, bookish veterinary science student is nothing like declaring them for a sometimes-crazed vigilante with an unreadable expression and a penchant for breaking bones.  
  
As he holds Rorschach in his arms, wrapped tightly around him, his feelings are only growing stronger. He feels so much so intensely for this man that "love" barely even seems enough to encompass it, and yet it's the only word he can think of.  
  
Before he can ruminate on the matter any more deeply, Rorschach is waking in his turn, sleepily rubbing his bare ass against Dan's cock and making these wonderful noises halfway between growling and purring.  
  
"Hey, buddy," he whispers, hot breath turning the mask black where it rests just above Rorschach's ear.  
  
"Daniel." The name is all Rorschach can manage, more of a growl than speech. His voice is tinged with an urgency that Dan has rarely heard before, only on a rare occasion, here or down in the basement or whispered desperately in some dark alleyway after a long night of bloodshed and witnessed deviance.  
  
"Hold on." The lube is left out from their last encounter. Dan quickly applies it to himself, already hard and assured his recently fucked partner won't need any preparation this time. One hand gripping his partner's muscular thigh to lift it, he sinks in easier than ever before, although Rorschach is still so tight that it almost brings a tear to Dan's eye, making him remember how deadly the man is. It's a privilege to be allowed inside, and not without a hint of danger. He thinks of strong hands extracting information from underworld denizens, and makeshift bondage tying them to city fixtures, and begins to rock inside him, agonizingly slow for both of them until Rorschach's urgent growling lets Dan know he can't stand the languid pace any longer. He is utterly lost for words now, and Dan soon joins him, given over to sounds almost as primal.  
  
Dan always makes sure Rorschach gets off first, though he is never far behind. At first Rorschach had been too squeamish to let Dan cum inside him, forcing him to pull out and immediately wiping the fluid off his skin with whatever was closest, a disgusted look on the visible part of his face, but now he craves being filled--he'd be begging for it if he'd regained the ability to speak yet. When it's over he's determined to make a beeline for the bathroom, to brush his teeth until all traces of kissing and obscene requests are gone and punish himself by scrubbing his skin raw under scalding water before hiding his shame under something thick and oppressive. That part hasn't changed, but Dan is convinced it will given enough time, and this time he doesn't bolt right away; he lets Dan talk him into a cuddle--just a short one--nestling against his chest and sighing in a way that _almost_ sounds contented.  
  
In that moment, Dan knows he loves this beautiful, dangerous, fucked-up creature more than he's ever loved anyone in his life, or ever will. He knows this for sure, and he knows that he has to let him know it too.  
  
"Something to tell you," he blurts out in an almost-monotone, sounding an awful lot like Rorschach does when he's nervous, or so deep into a case that he can't spare any extra words. It's easier this way, for some reason. Maybe it's easier to be direct without all that unnecessary padding. Rorschach pulls away and sits up, pulling the covers up to his neck.  
  
"Done with me?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Understand. Knew it would end soon. Hope we can still be partners."  
  
Oh, god. Oh, shit. "Rorschach, I'm not _breaking up_ with you," Dan says, once he gets over the initial shock of Rorschach thinking that he would. Whatever verging-on-superhuman powers the guy might have, mind-reading clearly isn't among them.  
  
Rorschach stares, both expressions blank (the mask is white), waiting for him to say something and clear up the confusion. Dan has absolutely no choice now, he has to say it.  
  
"I..."  
  
"You what?"  
  
"I love you, Rorschach."


	2. Chapter 2

Daniel's words hang in the air, which moments ago had been pleasantly warm and which now feels as suffocating as the foul midsummer miasma in his un-airconditioned tenement. He's never been that good at reading emotions, but Daniel is unmistakably nervous. Life-or-death nervous, like an informant holding out on him when he knows something major. Like a liar, and Rorschach wonders why Daniel would lie to him.  
  
He has to be lying. Nobody's ever loved Walter Kovacs, not his own mother, and--much as it pains him to admit it--probably not his father either. As for Rorschach, nobody in their right mind would love _him,_ and Daniel's always been the sanest of their cohort. Besides, he's not gay. Rorschach knows he's been in relationships with women before, and will be again. Retirement might be a few years away (he hopes longer) but after that there's still time for Daniel to find somebody, settle down and have a family while Rorschach goes his own way. What they have, it's...well, he's never known what to call it. It's more than just friendship, more than fucking. Companionship, maybe. Rorschach's there, someone for Daniel lie with, to keep him warm, and he can listen even if he doesn't talk much. Rorschach doesn't know a lot about true love--it's fair to say he's never even seen it in action--but he knows this isn't what it looks like.  
  
He hasn't dared to hope for more, although he has fantasized about it. He's not naive enough to imagine some grand Hollywood-style romance, not even in his wildest dreams, but being with Daniel feels so good that he wishes it would last forever. Held in Daniel's arms, he thinks about growing old with him long after these days of crime-fighting have ended, with Daniel selling his brownstone and buying a house somewhere far away from this wretched city where they can live together. When he's at work he daydreams of idyllic domesticity, days at the fair or nights off at the movies, while the young women chatter about their boyfriends and the old women swap stories of grandchildren, sometimes so lost in the dream he botches what he's doing and gets yelled at by the supervisor. It's stupid, and he's never expected to have anything more than he already has.  
  
Which is what makes Daniel's "I love you" so jarring, and so confusing. He wants him to be telling the truth. More than that, he wants to be able to say it back. If _he_ said it, it wouldn't be a lie, he has to admit that now. There's even a sliver of hope that if he went along with it, he could have what he's dreamed of, but you can't build a house on sand.  
  
"You don't," he says instead, unexpectedly choking up. "You don't love me. Why would you say that?"  
  
And he's never been that good at reading emotions, but Daniel is an open book today. He looks bewildered, then crestfallen, like a child at the home who'd just found out he wasn't going to be adopted after all. Rorschach can't help feeling like he's done something wrong, but he doesn't understand what, or what he's supposed to do now. He draws his knees up to his chest and wraps the covers tightly around himself like a cocoon, waiting for Daniel to say something.


	3. Chapter 3

  
He wasn't expecting this. He didn't know how Rorschach would take his confession, but he didn't think he'd be accused of _lying,_ and it hurts.  
  
"I said it because it's true."  
  
"...It is?"  
  
"Of course it is. I would never lie to you about something like that."  
  
Then, silence.  
  
"Why?" Rorschach finally asks, in a voice so small it can barely be heard even in the quiet of the brownstone.  
  
Never has Dan been asked to justify his love for someone before. It's hard to put such a thing into words, but he tries. "We've been partners for almost ten years. We've done so much together, so much that I'd have never been able to do on my own. You've always got my back...I probably wouldn't even be alive today if I didn't have you there."  
  
"Not love, Daniel, just camaraderie."  
  
"Maybe at first," Dan admits, "but it's something else now. Become part of something else, you know? We spend so much time together, so close...it happens."  
  
"Hurm." Rorschach mulls, deep in concentration, considering the evidence before him.  
  
"And I love you because...because you're you," he adds.  
  
"Makes even less sense. Not lovable."  
  
Dan's heart breaks just a little. "What makes you think that?"  
  
"Because I'm not. Nobody ever has before," Rorschach says, and Dan knows he isn't exaggerating or being melodramatic. The little crack in his heart is turning into a major fault line.  
  
"Come here, buddy. Let me hold you. Please."  
  
Rorschach sheds his cocoon and inches toward Dan, letting himself be held. He lies stiffly in Dan's arms and his breathing is shallow.  
  
"I love you, Rorschach, and that means you're lovable. Understand?" That part seems like circular reasoning, but love is rarely a logical thing.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yes, really."  
  
Rorschach starts to relax, then abruptly stiffens again.  
  
"Hey, what's wrong?"  
  
"How can you love me when you're not..."  
  
"Not what?"  
  
"Not gay."  
  
That throws Dan for a loop. "Rorschach, we _just_ had sex."  
  
"Not talking about sex. Know you like women, had relationships in past."  
  
"I like both. Men and women, for sex _and_ love."  
  
"Both?"  
  
"Yes, both. It's possible."  
  
"Would be easier to be with a woman."  
  
"More acceptable, maybe. I wouldn't say _easier._ Might even say harder."  
  
"But you can get married to a woman. Have children."  
  
"Who says I want those things?"  
  
"Maybe not now, but later."  
  
"God, you're stubborn." Dan takes a deep breath. "Look, Rorschach, you're the person I want to be with. I don't care how irrational that is, or what other people think, or what it means for the future. I love you, always will, and there's nothing I can do to change that, so please, please, let me. Let me love you."  
  
Dan waits for a response. The silence is killing him. He can hear every clock in the house ticking, can hear the birds outside and identify every one, could hear a fucking pin drop here or in the street outside.  
  
Can hear Rorschach crying.  
  
"Fuck, I'm sorry."  
  
Rorschach sits up. He's shaking badly all over. "Don't apologize," he says, as Dan sits up to face him and gasps as he peels off the mask. His eyes are wet, and they're beautiful, and Dan is so, so grateful to finally know what color they are.  
  
"Daniel?"  
  
"Yes?" Dan whispers, too awestruck to raise his voice.  
  
"I love you too."


	4. Chapter 4

Walter's finally made it to the shower, and this time Daniel's with him. He settles his head against Daniel's chest as he lets the water wash the tears away, enjoying its perfect temperature and the prolonged skin on skin contact. A blissful little sigh escapes from his lips, the only sound either of them makes.  
  
And he's Walter now, not Rorschach, with all of the former's flaws. The same weak, ugly little runt, the same poor, half-educated garment factory worker, the same bastard son of a whore, and somehow none of it matters. He doesn't think there's anything he could tell Daniel that would make him love him less. It had taken a while for Walter to accept that Daniel was telling the truth, but now he's convinced of his sincerity. Maybe he's not completely convinced that he _deserves_ Daniel's love, but he's not going to fight it. Now his fantasies are hopes after all this time, and the thought of his daydreams being realized doesn't seem so ludicrous.  
  
He stands on his toes to kiss Daniel, passionate but chaste, all his lust worked out earlier. Daniel is so much taller, and it's so awkward doing this without Rorschach's lifts, but Walter doesn't care anymore, a fistful of wet brown hair in his hand and soft lips on his own. For a few seconds, everything is perfect, as if the whole wretched world outside isn't even there.  
  
When their lazy, relaxing shower is over, Daniel towels himself off. Walter, meanwhile, sizes the opportunity to trace something on the fogged up mirror--a love heart, and their names in it separated by a clumsily drawn ampersand, like something etched into a tree at the park by adolescent lovebirds.  
  
Daniel reads the ersatz graffiti, which is large enough to be legible without his glasses. "Walter?"  
  
"My name." Walter feels stupid admitting it, embarrassed, like even his name isn't good enough, but Daniel just kisses the top of his head and wraps him in one of those soft fluffy towels, clean and white and smelling good the way things in Daniel's house always do.  
  
Walter dresses in Rorschach's suit--he doesn't have anything else here to wear, and it'll be time for patrol soon anyway--and waits on the couch while Daniel makes them something to eat, relaxing in the sun's departing light and warmth.  
  
"It's just oatmeal," Daniel says, handing the steaming bowl to Walter. "There wasn't anything else. I tried to make it the way you like it, with milk and brown sugar and maple syrup."  
  
Walter tastes a spoonful of the oatmeal. It's too hot to eat, and burns his tongue a little, but Daniel, true to his word, _has_ made it just the way he likes it. "Thank you," he says.  
  
They eat on the couch in silence, watching each other eat. Daniel's glasses are off again, and Walter can't stop staring at his eyes. Keen and fierce, hawk-like in the way all of him is, but in this light they look gentle and soulful. His mouth is even more beautiful, and Walter would kiss him right now if they weren't both stuffing their faces.  
  
"Was it good, buddy?" Daniel asks, scraping his own bowl clean and licking the spoon.  
  
"Always good when you make it. Everything is."  
  
Daniel blushes, unusually bashful. Walter thinks it suits him. It's cute.  
  
"Wait, there's some on your face. Here," Daniel points to the corner of his mouth. Walter tries to lick the corresponding spot clean, but misses, and Daniel surprises him by doing it for him. The licking quickly turns into kissing, Daniel pulling Walter into his lap and sending the bowls and spoons clattering to the floor, chipped and ignored.  
  
Walter pulls away, breaking the kiss, flushed and breathless. "Time for patrol soon," he pants.  
  
"We don't have to go," Daniel suggests. "We could stay here. I think the city can survive one night without us."  
  
"I want to go," Walter says, "but only with you."  
  
"We do make a good team."  
  
"Partners," Walter agrees, smiling.


End file.
